


Catharsis

by midnightssky (orphan_account)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Birthday, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, I'm tag whoring whoops, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Blood, Self-Hatred, happy bday trash husband have some pain, not route specific, sort of, there's no actual smut srry, very vague implied smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/midnightssky
Summary: "You could've chose anyone at all, and yet you chose a broken man."A small kiss, and then a sad smile."You're not the only one who's broken."





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna be lazy but I remembered trash husband's birthday so here I am
> 
> fluff and angst and stuff idk 
> 
> I couldn't think of a title 
> 
> sincere apologies if characters are ooc I tried to test my writing skills again and it Never Works

Zero wasn't a worthy man, not to be fed or clothed, or to serve a royal prince, yet somehow it was how he ended up.  He never thought of himself as someone who mattered, he was simply  _Zero, nothing._  Zero, that's what he called himself the night his life was saved.  The outlaw's dark skin was covered in nasty scars, pale blue eye always roaming every hiding place for a single penny or any type of discarded food.  That had been his life, where he was no better than dirt scuffed up by noble feet, simply to be sweeped away like the eyesore it always had been.  He had no beauty, or worth, that's what he always told himself, and that didn't bother him much.  It was simply how things were.  Do what you can to survive, and don't think twice about it.

 

Steal, kill, run.  There were different ways filth could earn money, yet it was never enough, and it always ended with the garbage being filthier, and trembling hands stained crimson.  The quivering boy he had been didn't last long, he had long since died when he needed to fend for himself, and the pitiful  _boy_ was replaced by a stone cold  _Zero,_ only one of many killed to keep himself alive.

 

Zero never bothered to remember anything that couldn't keep him alive or fed.  He didn't remember the face of the woman he had called mother, or any friends he may have cared for as a child.  The only memories he kept hidden in his mind were how to slit a man's throat and clean up the blood after, or how to swipe a pouch of coins from a snobby merchant that wouldn't realize until he was long gone.

 

The boy he had been was gone, and he was simply nothing, dirt to be stomped on with no flame left to snuff out.  Thick crimson painted the thief's fingertips, and a smirk came onto his lips as he simply wiped it away, the smear of the dripping liquid staining his battered clothing.  He could vaguely piece together the memory of his  _fear,_ the  _pain_ and  _regret_ he felt the night his blade first spilled the blood of someone other than himself, and how he nearly scrubbed his skin raw to remove the stains it left on his hands.

 

 _"You'll get yourself killed living like that, kid.  Shut it down, or I'll kill you myself."_  He could still hear the voice of another thief, an older man, the many fortnights he spent in the bitter cold must have frozen over his heart.  Not like it hadn't eventually done the same for Zero.  He was nothing, each and every night he lived, and he didn't deserve it.

 

But his life only truly began the night he died once again, the Zero he had long known himself as slaughtered by a simple boy.  The outlaw hadn't begged, even if it wasn't possible for dirt to get even lower, he wouldn't be a coward like his 'friends' and beg for his life.  No, he begged for it all to end.  The pitiful life he didn't deserve needed to be ended, and if not by himself, someone worthy to take it away from him.  Zero hated nobles, every damned one of them, for how high and mighty they held themselves as, if not having a care in the world and simply not realizing or caring what went around from beneath their high horse.

 

Zero hated the boy that threatened to kill him, a scowl on his lips, no more than a young teenager when thick thorned vines wrapped around his scarred throat and threatened to end his life.  The legendary tome he wielded seemed fit for such born with a silver spoon, but he still noticed how he struggled to control it, sparkles of magic biting back at his palm as he squeezed tighter around the filth's neck.  And that night, he begged for his life to end, and it did.

 

"What's your name?"  The boy asked, raising a single brow to the snowy haired male as his hazel eyes roamed across his poor excuse of an eyepatch, the worn bandage that covered a wound even he couldn't seem to ignore.  He couldn't remember, or care enough to, not as the vines that squeezed and held him so close to the sweet release he always wanted fled and his skin pricked with warm blood, only wanting the cold embrace of darkness to take him.  He didn't care enough to believe he could be anywhere better once he died, yet he just wanted it all to end, and didn't seem to give half a damn where it took him.

 

"I am nothing.  I don't have a name."  Came his simple reply, and that was when his life had started again.

 

* * *

 

 

He was Niles.  The outlaw that somehow kept managing to escape death, even after trying his best to embrace it with arms wide open, had a name.  But he was still the same, still nothing, beaten and broken in every way possible and yet he was still there, managing to stand on his own.  And he still hated the boy that kept him alive.  At the time, he could've been no more than a student of a mage studying magic, having such a high rank for his place as a prince.

 

Upon seeing his lord studying magic once, he noticed the hesitance he had wielding the purple tome, and how it still seemed to resist when he needed it most.  "You don't deserve that, kid."  He said simply, leaning against the door frame as he saw Leo jump, his young lord growling lowly to himself as he slammed shut the pages of the book and left it abandoned on his desk as he stood to walk out of the room, head held high as always as he showed a scowl towards the outlaw.  "And you don't deserve to speak to me in such way,  _retainer._ Make yourself useful, before I put you in your place myself."   _"If only you could now, that'd be amusing."_ Niles thought, but did as he was told, and he held his tongue.

 

* * *

 

 

Niles never believed Leo deserved the life he was born into.  Not the silver spoon in his mouth or the high horse he never stepped off of, or the pain and the grief that came as such.  He never bothered enough to ask about the prince's life, or why his hands trembled upon speaking to his father, like his had so many years ago from not knowing what to do.  He never bothered to care, until a night that Leo had sat alone, head in his hands, the boy crying away his pain in suffering into hands that he could never wash free of the blood.  

 

He never expected to pity someone with such a life, or to blindly look away from the burdens of it, or how his scarred arms wrapped around Leo until his crying eventually lulled him into a deep sleep, cheeks stained with tears as he cried away his pain, before he willed himself to leave it all behind and become a man.

 

* * *

 

 

He never expected to truly love, especially not with the naked prince wrapped in his arms in the early morning in Nohr, pale skin littered with bitemarks and bruises from their previous passionate night.  They had grown to love each other over the years that Niles had poured out his heart and soul to the prince, and received the same from his love.  It was his life, and he was loved, cared for and trusted, even when he didn't deserve the ground his love walked on.  Leo stirred, groaning softly to himself as he moved to stand and stretch his sore body, a yawn leaving his lips as Niles's gentle fingertips grazed over the marks he had left behind.  They chose a date to celebrate together on, his new birthday, the day he was killed and given a new life again with his love and purpose.  "Happy birthday, Niles."  He murmured, the blond giving a gentle smile as he leaned down to give the white haired male a kiss.  

 

He was broken, they were both broken, every touch they shared lingering from the blood they had both been forced to spill to keep themselves alive, but having each other together was what truly mattered, and neither ever wanted to see the blood of their love spilled as long as they lived.  Smiling slightly in return, Niles shifted against the sheets, pulling his prince down into his embrace as his fingers lingered to touch along his scars, some of which he wore with pride since receiving in his new life.  They laid in silence, enjoying the quiet love before the outlaw spoke.

 

"You could've chose anyone at all, and yet you chose a broken man."

 

A small kiss, and then a sad smile.

 

"You're not the only one who's broken."

 

And it was then that Niles knew, no matter how many lifetimes could go by, the man he loved was the man who's hands were also stained with blood yet intertwined perfectly with his, and eyes sad and yet so filled with love that it melted his stone cold heart.  He could never wash away the filth he had been, or the pain he caused, but he had someone to share it with, and together, they made it all seem to go away.  There was Leo, and he was his forgiveness and hope, and that was all that mattered.

 

**Author's Note:**

> UNEDITED, RUSHED, HELLA GAY IM NOT FIXING ANYTHING


End file.
